


UNTITLED - Medieval Work

by youngandblonde



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Original work - Freeform, Work In Progress, do not post on other sites, medieval setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23519311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngandblonde/pseuds/youngandblonde
Summary: My first work! Originally written for a short story fictional class writing and got lots of good feedback from classmates, so thought I may continue it and see. Summary is a WIP as is the story.Two brothers. One the roguish rebellious knight. The other the picture-perfect knight. They're on a mission to save the kingdom, but can they get along long enough for it to be a possibility?Excerpt:“Of course, you have a choice,” Kit mollifies his brother. “I just figured you would be more interested in a plot against the royal family, but I guess that was—”“No! I’m interested. So, interested. Plot? Princesses? Count me in. Hurry up, slowpoke, princesses don’t save themselves!”“If you bothered to remember your lessons, you’d recall we don’t have any princesses of Dunley, just princes,” Sir Kit clarifies, “but glad to have you aboard.”As the two children recalled the day’s adventure for their mother that night, the youngest fiercely declared for his 6 years of age that someday he would save a member of the royal family and be the Head Knight for his brave actions.Little did the brothers know that this would one day be true.





	UNTITLED - Medieval Work

Prologue: A Most Noble Knight

The door clanged open, reverberating throughout the cell. The light pierced the gloom and rested upon a figure lying on the floor within the room. They shrunk back from the light, unused to it after spending so long within the gloomy room. 

“Get up, you rot!” growls the guardsman. 

The figure does not move any further.

“You ‘ave a visitor,” the guard shouts as his grubby hands reach for the shadowed man, yanking him to his knees, “I think you’ll want to see ‘em.” He cackled and spit upon the floor. 

The prisoner was dragged to the front of the cell, where a tall, cloaked figure stood waiting. All that could be discerned from this large figure was a gray, finely made cloak, even if the coloring was similar to a cheaply made one that was available at any marketplace.

“Milord, ‘ere’s the fool,” the guard says unnecessarily before noticing the prisoners lack of respect and immediately shoves the man to the floor once more in a facsimile of a bow.

The cloaked noble, for who else could afford such a cloak and demand such respect, merely drops a bag into the guard’s hand that clinks upon impact. The guard’s steps fade away as he returns to his post elsewhere, leaving the noble and the prisoner alone in the dank dungeon.

After a moment, the nobleman sighs, drawing back the hood of his cloak to reveal long hair tied back and sorrowful brown eyes. He gazes upon the prisoner who makes no move to look up.

“Brother. Look at me.”

_A sunny field is filled with laughter. Two young boys come rumbling and tumbling along. The eldest with his brown eyes is ever watchful of the younger blond._

Blue eyes filled with rage connect with brown.

“Brother! You would dare lay claim upon me, oh noble knight?” The newly revealed younger brother mocks, “I would think those days we played together are long past, Kit!”

_The blond and brunette strike sticks crossing back and forth, mimicking the swords of the knights they wish to be. The younger blond shouts the best his small lungs can that he will be the bravest knight someday and take upon the most dangerous of quests. The older simply guffaws, mocking his brother for his short stature and the need for a least a foot or three before that would ever happen._

The nobleman sighs the sigh of all long-suffering older siblings as he rolls his eyes.

“Yes, brother. You are a worthy knight too, as you hold to the code just as well as any knight out there,” The older nudges the younger with his boot, “even if not as clean as any knight, Cassius.”

_Shrieking laughter accompanies the two boys as their sword fight dissolves to wrestling at the insult, landing themselves in a fortunate spot of mud. Hours later, the maids will be in a tizzy for all the mud they track throughout the hallways on the way to the baths._

Sir Keith “Kit” removes a package from his cloak even as he shakes the memories away. Cassius rises from the floor for the first time in the conversation, putting him firmly a few inches short of his behemoth of a brother.

“Hey! I’ve been enjoying the hospitality of these lovely people for months and I have not complained once!” Cassius protests.

Drolly, Kit responds, “I doubt that.”

“Oi!”

“Regardless,” Sir Kit continues, “We’re leaving. Put this cloak on and let’s go.”

Cassius grasps the newly revealed cloak, almost dropping it at the abrupt shove. As he winds it around his shoulders, he eyes his brother from the side.

“And I have no choice in the matter? What if I really had wanted to stay, got myself a prime location for the cell, made some friends with the rats. I’m Marcelle’s godfather, you see, and they’ll be so disappointed not to get my scraps anymore for the new litter.”

“Of course, you have a choice,” Kit mollifies his brother. “I just figured you would be more interested in a plot against the royal family, but I guess that was—”

“No! I’m interested. So, interested.” Cassius butts in faster than Kit can finish. He begins to stride away from the cell. He responds over his shoulder, “Plot? Princesses? Count me in. Hurry up, slowpoke, princesses don’t save themselves!”

“If you bothered to remember your lessons, you’d recall we don’t have any princesses of Dunley, just princes,” Sir Kit clarifies, “but glad to have you aboard. We ride for the citadel immediately.”

_As the two children recalled the day’s adventure for their mother that night, the youngest fiercely declared for his 6 years of age that someday he would save a member of the royal family and be the Head Knight for his brave actions._

Little did the brothers know that this would one day be true.


End file.
